


When you move, I could never define all that you are to me

by misbehavin



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Worship, Developing Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Light Bondage, M/M, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 18:10:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17126255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbehavin/pseuds/misbehavin
Summary: “Which one of us will use this?” Castiel says, unraveling the scarves on Sam’s hand and watching his exposed throat.Sam takes a deep breath, a leap of faith. “Uh, me.”





	When you move, I could never define all that you are to me

**Author's Note:**

> this has been in my drafts for mONTHS bc I'm really not confident in my smut writing abilities but I figured I can’t be the only one craving some m/e rated samcas, right? RIGHT? So here's a little something. I actually quite like it and I hope you do as well. Pls do tell me if you enjoy any of it ok <3
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> (Also Happy Holidays!)

 

 

Castiel’s hands don’t ever shake, but right now he doesn’t look as put together as he usually does.

They’ve been together for no longer than a couple of months, but everything is still new. That means that technically they’re past the first steps, but that not enough ground rules have been established yet. Sure Cas made promises while he was away, and Sam said he’d be waiting for him, and here he is. He knows they’ve danced around each other for too long, and it’s only a matter of time until they figure themselves out, work up all the ways they fit together and explore it.

Might as well start sooner.

“Hello, Sam,” Cas says, closing the door behind him. He scans the room, sheds his coat and tie as he steps up closer to the chair where Sam is sat at. He stands right in front of Sam while getting out of his shoes, as natural as coming home, as if this whole thing between them doesn’t still taste fresh.

“Hey, Castiel,” Sam greets, looking up at him without moving. He puts away the book he’d been mindlessly going through, the tangle of words a distraction to keep him from rereading Cas’ texts. “How was Greece?”

“Interesting,” Castiel answers. “My knowledge of the language is outdated, as it seems.”

Sam rolls his eyes, but not unkindly. “Is there any language you can’t speak?”

“Parseltongue.”

Sam crinkles his nose, thinking back their heated discussion of magic, gardens, villainized women. “Right. Of course not.”

If not a smile, something very close to it shines on Cas’ face briefly. They always have these little moments, and Sam doesn’t know if Cas can see how much they add up and make life seem easier, concrete. He supposes they’re at a point where it’s inherently prohibited to have any sort of conversation where they attempt to outdo each other with opinions about who’s the best or worse at anything, and moved on to inside jokes. Down to his bones and in somewhere deep within himself, Sam can sense and predict it’s a good sign, for whatever it’s worth.

Castiel already took off his socks, and now he starts unbuttoning his shirt. It’s not really intended for Sam’s amusement because it’s not a serious, thought-out striptease, but it mostly works. Sam is into him, for starters. And though Castiel isn’t that much better at being patient, he’s had endless time to practice focus, so his fingers deal with the buttons deliberately, until he can take off his shirt and let it fall to the ground along with everything else, including every pretense he hasn’t also been thinking about this moment over and over. His eyes never leave Sam’s, so there’s an underlying tension cackling in the air, minutes away from a burst.

“Did you miss me?” Castiel asks, getting rid of the last piece of his clothing left.

Sam licks his lips, scans him head to toe. There’s a persistent dimple on his left cheek.

Castiel wants to _bite_ it.

“A little bit, yeah.”

Castiel towers over Sam. It’s such a rare occurrence Sam leans backwards on the chair, the back of his head softly hitting the wall behind him.

“Which one of us will use this?” Castiel says, unraveling the scarves on Sam’s hand and watching his exposed throat.

Sam takes a deep breath, a leap of faith. “Uh, me.”

Castiel doesn't mask his surprise. He seems entertained by the idea though, and it's a relief, all things considered. He presses a kiss to Sam’s mouth, pulls away to lure him to follow him as he unbuckles his belt. “Come here, Sam.”

Sam does. He stands up and ducks his head for a second kiss, pulls his shirt up and off, moves in for more. Cas pulls his head back, tugs at Sam’s pants to drag his attention back to undressing. Once naked, Sam lays himself on the bed without being prompted, holds onto the gaps in the bedhead like the least subtle of invitations. He licks his lips too much, a nervous tick, for sure, so Cas kisses him slow while trying his wrists. It can't be entirely comfortable, regardless of how nice the fabric of the scarves is. Sam doesn't complain; he opens up his mouth, kisses back.

“Is that alright?” Cas asks, sitting back on his hunches.

“Yeah,” Sam says, testing the resistance. It’s tight, but he’s got room to move his arms so his muscles don’t feel strained which is good. But now he can’t get himself to sit or lift his upper body high enough to reach Cas’ face.

Castiel looks far too content with that.

“Condoms and lube are in the third drawer,” Sam says, wanting to move things along.

Castiel grabs the items and puts them by Sam’s head, scoots backwards. He goes far enough Sam holds his breath, expecting the worst, something cruel like Cas leaving.

It doesn’t happen.

Down at the foot of the bed, Castiel wraps his hand around Sam’s calves, thumb tracing lazy patterns, apparently to try and calm himself down. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Maybe? I tried to keep myself busy today but I couldn’t focus on anything.” Sam looks at Cas and feels his skin get hot as fever. He’s tied up, naked, stretched out the mattress like an offering and Cas is staring at his face, like the inches of flesh are good but Sam, whatever truly composes him, is better. “You said, um, you said you’d be here early.”

Cas hums, his hands moving up to both of Sam’s knees, trailing a path up his inner thighs then his hips. There’s a sharp intake of breath from both him and Sam before Castiel continues, “I’m sorry.”

Sam fidgets, swallows. Maybe it’ll take a lot of time to get used to Cas’ kindness.

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”

“You can stop stalling, for one.”

This isn’t what they’ve been texting about. It seems like a step too forward. Sam hasn’t even been able to say the word relationship aloud yet, afraid the spell would be broken as soon as he did. Whatever they decide to be, it has only been implied. It’s not exactly easier for Sam to deal with sex _agreements_ first, but he’d rather get to it then risk losing Cas altogether by suggesting they could be _more_.

“Stalling?” Cas frowns. “I’m not stalling. I’m… Teasing you.”

“Right,” says Sam, barely containing a chuckle. What is Castiel even thinking? “You don’t have to do that. You can just, y’know. Come here.”

Cas mouths Sam’s left hip and leaves a trail of kisses up his abdomen. When he lifts his face is to say, “But I want to.”

“Cas,” exclaims Sam, his hands flexing, wanting to place Cas where he wants. “Really, no need to tease anyone, okay?”

In no time, Castiel sits on Sam’s hips and leans in, face close enough their noses touch.

“You said that you wanted many things from me, including that I did whatever I’d like to you.”

Sam shivers at the words. “Cas, c’mon.”

Castiel kisses the spot behind his ear, adds, “Isn't that what you said?”

Sam turns his head, feels himself turn pink all over.

“Yeah, but--”

“So will you let me, Sam?”

“Cas, I don’t think-”

“I just want to touch you,” he rests his forehead on Sam’s, sighs, “Can I?”

He sounds so honest, eager, it’s hard not to cave, give in. And this is a display of trust, isn’t it? To let someone touch you like this, _love_ you like this, and Sam had a taste of it once and has been craving it ever since. He’s more than naked, pliant under Castiel, all because he trusts him, with his life, body and soul. It could never be just sex between them, he realizes. 

Before analyzing that too deeply and ruining everything, he licks his lips and says,

“Hm, okay.”

There’s a spark in Cas’ eyes at that, and the exploration continues. His fingertips roam over Sam’s skin, curious and attentive. He starts at Sam’s frown, then the bridge and point of his nose, the shape of his lips. He touches Sam’s shoulders with firm hands, his biceps, elbows, all the way to the wrists.

Sam takes advantage of the proximity to lift his neck and kiss any part of Castiel he can reach.

Cas touches his chest, his waist, his inner thighs. He worships every part, catalogues the scars, the details Sam became used to hiding. “Beautiful," Castiel mutters, once. The word echoes in the room, inside Sam. 

They both breath heavily; Sam moreso, of course. Cas knuckles are on the underside of his dick and he’s nearly floating, losing his goddamn mind. Nobody has ever done this. He’s never let anyone do this. He’s the one always in control, managing how and the way things go.

Castiel watches his reaction as he touches his perineum. He balances himself with a hand flattened on the mattress and lowers until his mouth is close enough for Sam to kiss as he keeps his ministrations.

“How does that feel?” Cas asks.

“Good,” Sam grunts. “How do you even--”

“I’ve admired humanity for ages,” explains Cas, “And though I admittedly still lack a certain discernity with customs, I’ve always known…”, he wraps his hand gently around Sam’s throat, “How to cause you fatal wounds,” his other hand presses harder into Sam, causing him to gasp, “And where to touch to cause any desired effect.”

In a shudder, Sam thrusts his hips upwards, his tied up arms pulling the fabric of the scarves holding him down.

“Please,” he moans. “Please, I can’t-- Just-- Please, okay.”

Castiel smiles and admits, “I like you like this.”

“You’ll like me better if you get a move on and fuck me.”

Castiel lifts an eyebrow, pausing, unimpressed. Then he rolls his eyes, takes condom and lube and positions himself, his face scrunched up in a funny way as he gets them both ready. He holds onto Sam, and after a moment of hesitation, starts moving. It’s almost elegant how he does it -- moves like he’s dancing, like it’s supposed to be an endless smooth act. Well, at least at the beginning. 

“That's good, Cas,” encourages Sam, sighing. He watches the blush on Cas spread upwards, from his chest to his cheeks. “C’mon, show me what you got.”

A groan erupts from Cas and he silences Sam by thrusting until he turns breathless, a mumbling mess of incoherent sounds. 

There’s a thin layer of sweat on Sam’s skin, sticking to Cas’ palm where he’s touching him.

Sam tests the scarves tying him again, pushing his own body forward, searching for more of whatever this is -- Castiel’s undivided attention, maybe.

“Cas.”

Castiel’s breath is hot on Sam’s face.

“Yes?”

“Fuck, Cas,” he curses, just as his lips are being kissed again.

It’s unexpected, to say the least, when Castiel quickly unties him.

"Touch me, he demands, before any questions are made.

With hands now freed, Sam runs one through Cas’ hair, grabs his ass with the other.

“Sam--!”

“Yeah, I know,” says Sam. He bites gently on Cas’ ear, “C’mon, you’re so good to me.” It’s too intimate, the truth of it but, screw it. 

Cas shakes his head, disagreeing. “You’re the one--”

“You are,” Sam afirms. He pulls Cas closer with his legs, wrapped around him. “You’re so fucking good to me. Now be good and come, ok?”

“Oh, Sam.”

Sam comes and murmurs sweet-nothings until Castiel moans and does too, going limp on top of him.

 

Hours later, when Sam recalls this moment, he'll have to hide a uncontrollable smile. Right now he enjoys it: the feeling of Cas’ weight on him and his warmth, the wet kisses Cas peppers all over his face as they try to regain hold of their breathing. He slides his hand down Castiel's spine, if only to see him shiver one last time, and doesn't break eye-contact as he pulls out.

Cas lays down half on Sam, half on the bed, his ear to Sam's chest, their legs tangled.

“Really missed you, y'know,” Sam says quietly. Screw hiding, being a coward. “It kinda sucks when you're gone for too long.”

“Maybe I should take you with me next time.”

“I'd like that, actually.”

“How do you say it--” There's a pause. “It's a date.”

“You never did take me on one,” says Sam, “so it's only fair.”

“I reckon we were already dating, so it wasn't required. But I'll take you on how many dates you want. Each one a different country.”

Sam hums, sleepy. “Sounds nice. The dates I'll take you on will be cheaper, though. I've got a low-budget.”

Cas looks up at him, eyes fond and lips barely holding back a smirk.

“Luckily for you, I don't mind that at all.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
